


May I Hold That

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, King Uther - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, good uther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Leon has settled into adulthood, and then some, when Uther does more than call him to his chambers late at night, or pass Arthur’s care into his hands. He cannot remember the last time he held Uther’s attention outside of that room, or when they last spoke words beyond Arthur’s health. Uther has changed much, in a few short years, and Leon has lost count of all the ways. He casually traces the grey in Uther’s hair with his eyes, noting how different it looked under the sun all those years ago. Uther is…





	May I Hold That

Leon is still held close to his mother’s skirts, the first time the first time he meets Uther outside of the throne room. The older male is pacing there, muttering to himself. Leon knows he has his princely coronation today, and it appears he might be nervous. Leon wonders if he knows his head is bowed, even without the weight of a crown.

He isn’t sure where the confidence comes from, but Leon steps forward with his head high. “May I hold that for you?”

Uther looks up startled. Leon points to his hands, where he’s wringing a piece of red cloth.

“May I hold it while you,” he pauses, because he’s unsure what exactly an almost prince does. “While they give you the crown?”

Uther still looks a little confused, though his grey eyes seem amused, less wary.

He hands the cloth to the younger male with a small smile. “I supposed it’s unbecoming of a prince to clutch a raggedy old cloth, hm?”

Leon shrugs, but clutches the rag tightly. Uther studies him, and before he walks through, ruffles the red curls. “You’ll return it afterwards, yes?”

Leon nods seriously, and as Uthur passes through the heavy doors, settles himself against the stones, even though he knows his mother will be looking for him. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, his back cooling against the rock, but he’s stirred from sleep by loud trumpets and many voices. The crowd is overwhelming and he fears he will miss the prince.

A hand reaches towards him, plucking the red cloth from his grip and he is about to cry out when mischievous grey eyes catch his own. The new prince smirks at him, then winks, mouthing silent thanks.

If Leon dreams of a grey smile that night, he doesn’t suppose it is anyone’s business.

\---

Leon has entered his first summer, in that strange gap between boyhood and manhood, when Uther rescues him. He is hovering behind an old tapestry, nursing a bloody lip when the older boys find him. They drag him out by his hair and one of them slams a fist into his belly before they notice the footsteps heading their way. They all freeze, waiting to see who rounds the corner, but Leon is already struggling free and throwing back his shoulders/

Uther is known for roaming this particular corridor when the weight of responsibility gets to be too heavy; he likes that it is mostly unused and forgotten, and people rarely bother him. When the older male comes upon them, sunlight crowning his brown hair, Leon can’t help but shudder under an intense gaze. Still, he lifts his chin.

“May I hold that for you?”

Uther raises his brows and purses his lips, so Leon points to the cracked lance awkwardly held in his elbow.

“May I hold that lance? A prince should always have a hand free to clutch his sword, should the need arise.”

Uther gives him the faintest smirk, but he hands it over. He cuts his eyes at the boys behind Leon. “I did not see you at training today.”

Leon startles, and goes to say… anything, but Uther interrupts. “It would not do for you to be late again. Come along, we were waiting.” He turns and doesn’t bother to see if Leon follows.

If Leon wears a smug grin for many weeks, well, he supposes his bullies take no mind of it.

\---

Leon has finally entered his first full shave when Uther meets Ygraine. He has taken to following the prince around, as a page, a servant, whatever the older male might need. If Ygraine thinks anything of Uther bringing him along everywhere, she simply smiles and lets it be.

Leon tries at first, to hate her and the easy way she smiles, the way she draws laughter from Uther and subdues his rants without a single mark.

She smiles at him though, when Uther is being obtuse. Like she and Leon share some grand secret, and when he awkwardly turns away from their more intimate embraces, she kisses his cheek before they all depart.

Once night, as Uther paces his room practicing his words and struggling to calm his heart, Leon finds himself plucking wildflowers into a beautiful bundle he presents to the prince. When they meet the lady under the moon, her hands are full of delicate embroidery. Leon steps forward, with his head dipped in respect.

“May I hold that for you?”

She laughs, and it calms something in Uther, as she hands the needle and thread over. Leon is careful as he follows them at a respectable pace, not to tangle it. He thinks her hand fits Uther’s well, and his heart mostly doesn’t crack when she promises herself to Uther.

If she smiles at him, if Uther smiles at him, if they both kiss his cheek and it feels like a secret promise, he believes it’s between the three of them.

\---

Leon has worn Camelot’s cloak for many years, when Arthur is born. He stands outside the Queen’s room well into the night. His heart aches with the need to be in there, with his king and his queen, but he knows his place. He knows what he has promised both of them.

When he enters the room, he does not pretend to stand tall. His shoulders droop with more than the weight of a long night, and he is careful in his approach of Uther.

“May I hold him?”

At first he thinks Uther will refuse, that he is angry at Leon for entering. But Uther is a broken man not yet kissed by rage. He quietly hands his young son over, and holds his wife in his arms. Leon rocks the babe and does not attempt to trace Ygraine’s brow, does not brush the hair from Uther’s face, though he wants to.

If Leon cries that night, his arms full of his king’s babe, then the young boy is too young to remember it and his shame is his own.

If he still goes to the king’s chamber, and lets the man take his grief out of Leon’s body, well, Ygraine might forgive two men floating lost in the wake of her absence.

\---

Leon has settled into adulthood, and then some, when Uther does more than call him to his chambers late at night, or pass Arthur’s care into his hands. He cannot remember the last time he held Uther’s attention outside of that room, or when they last spoke words beyond Arthur’s health. Uther has changed much, in a few short years, and Leon has lost count of all the ways. He casually traces the grey in Uther’s hair with his eyes, noting how different it looked under the sun all those years ago. Uther is…

Arthur is so young to bear the weight of his father’s pain, but Leon is not strong enough to shoulder it either.

“May I hold that for you, your Highness?”

Uther glances up at the title, but he hands his cloak over. “I am afraid, Leon.”

Leon remains quiet as the king paces. He has grown thinner. When, Leon is unsure, but the king’s shoulders hang low and his cheeks are hollow. He shivers, despite the fire, and Leon wonders if he should return the cloak, but Uther waves him away already aware of Leon’s next actions.

“The nightmares don’t stop, these voices constantly cursing me.”

Leon doesn’t remind Uther how well versed he is, how many night’s he’s slunk into the king’s room to hold him tight until he finds sleep again.

“I am afraid, Leon. I can feel my time coming to an end.”

Leon does not offer his condolences. He cannot find it in him to offer false hope. He does, however, step close and wrap the cloak around the king’s shoulders, letting his hands linger.

Uther presses their foreheads together. “Have I ruined everything, Leon?”

Leon is quiet for a long time, simply listening to the sounds of their breath. When he speaks, he matches the steel in grey eyes. “You allowed your anger to rule you, Uther. Allowed rage and grief to cloud all that you are. You are not the young man who rescued a scared boy, or the brave man who found a way to love deeply and freely two different people. Who managed to combine his loves and connect them, so that they might love as well.”

He pauses, watching how Uther responds, but the king does not seem prone to an outburst. “But your kingdom flourishes, and your son lives. He will make a great King someday.”

“Despite my influences.” It breaks Leon, the anguish in Uther’s voice.

“Perhaps. Perhaps just as much because of it, though. He is devoted to you.”

If the kiss they share then is salty, like youthful summers, and warm, like it hasn’t been in many decades, Leon will not forget the last time Uther held him in his arms.

\---

Leon is not there when Uther dies, nor is he there as Arthur grieves. It is not his place to weep beside the king’s bed, or to wail above his tomb. He stands with the knights and does his duty, and pretends he does not understand the sympathy in the young king’s eyes.

He lets Uther rest for many years. There is purpose in the way he defends Uther’s son, in the way he keeps himself alone save for the company of the knights. He does not visit the king’s grave until he buries his son, and then it is only so he can weep. So he can tell Uther how sorry he is that he did not do more, that he could not protect the heir.

When he crowns Gwen, his heart aches at the memories of twin smiles under different crowns.

If Gwen is angry when he leaves, he never hears of it.

\---

Leon is old and grey and constantly tired when he hears Uther’s voice once more. How Gwen had found him, he might never know, but he is bundled beneath furs on the bed Uther and Ygraine once shared with him and gentle brown hands drag a cloth across his forehead. He knows he is dreaming when Uther asks “May I hold that for you?” and motions for his hand.

Still he stretches out his arm. The king is joined by his Queen, and Leon can’t decide if he hates this fever dream or loves it. Gwen kisses his forehead once, and whispers “go to them, Sir Leon.”

He closes his eyes, and lets them take his hands, and when he opens them the sun is bright and flowers bloom, and Uther stands before him with brown hair and light eyes. Ygraine kisses each of his cheeks and then Uther does.

They pull him into a tight embrace, interrupted only by Arthur who seems a little confused by the display that includes his Mother, but doesn’t fight when they pull him in as well.

If Leon thinks that this place is a chance for them to do things right, for Uther to be the king Leon saw in him all those years ago, he keeps it to himself. He thinks he deserves a chance to enjoy his loves and for his loves to live life without burden, if only for a moment.

 


End file.
